


With Luck Like This You Don't Need Curses

by frosty600



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Escort Will, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosty600/pseuds/frosty600
Summary: Will Graham had never been lucky.But he'd finally found his niche where his accursed empathy could be a benefit. Of course good things never last - not for Will Graham.Or do they?
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 54





	With Luck Like This You Don't Need Curses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/gifts), [stratumgermanitivum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Strawberries and Champagne](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535463) by [stratumgermanitivum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/pseuds/stratumgermanitivum), [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite). 



> I got inspired to write this little ficlet after reading Whiskeyandspite and stratumgermanitivum's fic Strawberries and Champagne. 
> 
> It's a wonderful fic AU inspired by Pretty Woman. (If you haven't you should definitely read it)
> 
> (I hope you both don't mind. the muse wouldn't leave me alone until I put my fingers to the keyboard)
> 
> I'm a bit nervous as I've never written a fic with this type of prose before. 
> 
> I might try to expand on this - but I'm not entirely sure I have the talent to do them justice in a larger scale. So we'll see.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had come to this. No that was a lie. He knew how it had happened. He just couldn’t quite believe it most days.

It hadn’t been the first time the good Doctor Lecter had solicited his company through his Madam, but it was the first time Will had agreed to go to the good Doctor’s home for the night. To allow the man to cook for him and take him up to his own bed rather than the high end hotel room at a place that valued discretion and suited the Doctor’s tastes and aesthetics. God forbid they make a mess of anything less than a thousand count Italian cotton sheets.

He’d already pieced together of course the good Doctor was in fact a killer – but it was in that moment that he’d realised just who he’d be keeping company for the night. The Chesapeake Ripper. His night had gone from its not my business so long as he doesn’t hurt me – to, he was very much in danger and at the mercy of a sadist and sociopath.

Who elevated his victims to art after hours of torture for offences Will didn’t know. Of course the revelation happened in the kitchen in the company of the man himself. And all it took was one look at the man to know that he knew that Will knew.

He was going to die because his God damned thrice cursed brain had pieced it together over a cookbook displayed in full view on a tidy little shelf!

He wanted to scream! Cry! Shout! Anything to express the unfairness. He thought of pleading – of stating that he didn’t care what the man did. Just let him leave, he’d speak not a word for he held little regard for the human race.

And his father, the only human he’d cared in his own emotionally crippled way was long since been buried.

He didn’t of course. He could see that it wouldn’t help. A man like the good Doctor that made art out of swine. Would do as he pleased. He always did. And bleating would merely annoy him and likely make the man more inclined to end him painfully.

He didn’t fear pain perse; he’d lived with all sorts of pain for as long as he could remember. From the other school children forever singling him out as the weird one. The wrong one too the emotions of others overwhelming him, leaving him feeling like an exposed live wire before he’d had any kind of forts to keep him somewhat protected.

But just because he didn’t fear it, didn’t mean he wanted it. At least not the type that ended with him probably watching as the imposing Apex predator before him extracted his organs. Forcing him to feel every cut – without the option to scream.

Will blinked tearing the contention he hadn’t even been aware in his panic that he’d met the mans deep maroon eyes. Swallowing as pieces slotted into place even as he willed them not too. The man didn’t just kill people – swine. He ate them. Killed them in sounders of three and served them up in impeccable dishes.

Cooked and presented to perfection – often to the fawning of his acquaintances to the mans amusement. The man had said that he delighted in throwing lavish parties for his fellow high society _friends_ during their first meeting.

Instead, Will smiled, a small thing that he could feel trembling at the edges despite his best efforts. He took a sip of the blood red wine the good doctor had poured for him, calming himself as he swallowed it down, the liquid helping to wet his dry throat and mouth, “So,” he licked his lower lip collecting a smear of the red liquid that lingered there, “What’s for dinner?”

Hannibal smiled, the points of his teeth, that Will had found delightfully imperfect in the otherwise perfectly presented and proportioned man whether naked or in the pretentious three piece suits he tended to favour.

“Never ask,” he took a sip from his own wine, “It spoils the surprise.”

They ate dinner. Will ingesting the human meat after only a small hesitation. If this was the night, he was to die. He’d die full at least. With food that not only smelled and looked mouth wateringly good but tasted divine.

The dinner past to quick and to slow in equal measure. The time seeming to fluctuate in Will’s mind as they ate and conversed. For Hannibal couldn’t not talk. He enjoyed their conversations he’d said once.

Will wondered if that was true – but then he knew it was. The man took pains to engage him in conversation – especially there first time together. When getting Will to converse was like pulling teeth for the man.

He hadn’t truly thought he’d see Hannibal again after that. He was never the best at holding conversations… but he had with Hannibal. And despite knowing he was going to die this night – he enjoyed their conversation still as they sat and ate and enjoyed the wine that paired with the rump roast that had been served.

He was led up to the bedroom. To the lions den. He was undressed, hands, mouth and teeth roving. He should be scared – but he knew these hands. Strong as they were, clever as they were – they were not moving with the intent to harm.

Not yet. Not yet.

He was laid out on the bed, the black of the sheets, bringing out the paleness of his skin and the blueness of his eyes.

He was fucked that night until he was a whimpering mess who couldn’t tell up from down. Which was his body and which was Hannibal’s. He was fucked until he had nothing left to give and then used, as Hannibal fucked into him over and over. The thick length of him battering his abused and swollen prostate until he came dry with a rasping cry torn from his throat. His body not sure if it hurt too much or not enough as the pleasure shot through him and over his overly sensitive nerves like a current pressed to a live wire.

Hannibal once again satisfied with the mess he’d once again made of Will came with a low grunting groan, pressing into him harshly. One hand pressing deep finger sized bruises into his hip and the other clenched in his hair.

Will felt Hannibal’s weight settle above him as he drifted, pressing him into the mattress. The damp heat of his panted breathes puffing against his sweaty neck. They lay entangled together for a long moment, before the body above him moved. And an over stimulated whine escaped Will as he felt the man’s softening length slip from his messy gaping hole.

The familiar sound of a condom being slipped off, tied reached his ears, before the weight on the bed shifted again as Hannibal got up to dispose of the condom. He heard water rushing through pipes in the bathroom.

He should probably get up – try to leave whilst he had the chance. But his body felt like liquid. A very sore well used puddle of useless liquid.

And all he really wanted to do was sleep. He blinked, his vision was hazy with exhaustion and the need to sleep. As it was he wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t half dozing already. He groaned unhappily as he felt hands on him.

He lay still, attempting to make himself as heavy as possible not wanting to be moved. Just wanting to sleep – he should’ve left when he had the chance. Forced his liquid limbs to carry him up and out the door.

Who was he kidding he would have stumbled about like a drunken fool and been caught anyway. He admitted to himself as hands far too used to manipulating and lifting deadweight easily hefted him up and off the sinfully comfortable bed and into arms that cradled him against a furry chest, that Will couldn’t help but nuzzle into as he breathed in the man’s familiar musk.

He’s always liked how Hannibal smelled. Cologne or no cologne. The man appealed to his nose. Even when he was covered in sweat and smelt of sex, BO and other bodily fluids.

He sighed out a soft breath and cracked open his eyes enough to peer up at the throat of the man that was carrying him across the room with steady steps that was far too unfair considering Will’s limbs still felt like liquid jelly, “Make it quick,” he mumbled.

“Hmm?” he felt the sound rumble through the older man’s chest.

“Make it quick, when you kill me,” he murmured again, making an effort to speak just a little louder through his strained throat, “Please.”

He got another considering hum and if he wasn’t mistaken the man sniffed his hair, arms tightening around him a moment later and he jerked a bit as he felt himself being lowered. Only to be settled into the wonderfully hot water of a bath.

His soon to be murderer settling in behind him, leaning his tired body against his broad chest. Will relaxed against him, the water too soothing and muscles too tired and sore to do anything else. He let himself be washed by careful hands that ran a soft cloth over his body. Only whining in discontent when the hands travelled south brushing over his sensitive rim and cock.

Hannibal shushed him, cleaning him proficiently before moving on, smoothing the cloth over sweat slick skin.

Will lost track of time again, but he was sure the two of them sat in the bath far longer than necessary. He thought he felt the water grow cool as he drifted in the world between asleep and awake.

Rousing only when he was lifted from the tub, towelled dry and wrapped in an impossibly soft robe before being carried back out into the bedroom. He watched in a sleepy sated dazed as the bed was effortlessly stripped of soiled sheets and dressed in clean ones by capable hands, before he, himself was once more stripped and nestled under the covers.

Hannibal joining him as naked as he was a moment later, arms wrapping around him and tucking against the older mans chest. He fell asleep between one blink and the next. Wondering if he’d wake at all.

He had woken of course. Alone in the luxurious bed. He’d thought perhaps to creep out the front door – but of course.

He was never that lucky. Who was he kidding. At the time he’d thought he’d had no luck at all. And he supposed depending on your point of view. He wasn’t lucky at all.

But that was semantics.

Instead of disappearing out the front door. He’d been served breakfast – and before he’d been even able to take a proper sip of coffee to kick start his brain properly. He’d been given an offer. Oh who was he kidding.

He’d been given a choice. He could live or he could die.

Still before even a single taste of the nirvana that was Hannibal’s coffee to kickstart his brain into higher functions?

_Rude_.

He was asked to stay. It’d shocked him. Made him puff up with irritation as he was want to do when threatened and confused. His sarcastic mouth, making Hannibal’s eyes narrow, before smiling imperfectly perfect fangs flashing at him.

“So, I’m a prisoner!”

“A guest,” Hannibal insisted.

“And if I chose to leave you’ll kill me!”

The silence that had followed was telling. And all the answer Will needed. He’d huffed of course. Stormed off to one of the many other rooms – and Hannibal had let him. Because he didn’t want to kill him.

No, he wanted company. Someone who could see him, understand him for exactly what he was. And somehow – he’d spotted Will for what he was. A person able to understand him. Will hadn’t been too happy with that realisation at first. How could he be when that meant he’d been being watched – essentially stalked without realising it.

But time had a way of soothing and Will let the anger shift to amusement at the thought of Hannibal following him, watching him go about his boring days and watching his ‘dates’ at night. He was even want to tease the older man about it now.

Earning himself many a fond ‘terrible boy’.

For Will wanted to live. And living with Hannibal was no hardship. It was an adjustment for the both of them. And things had been strained for a while for as much as he was a guest in the beginning. He was still housebound and under Hannibal’s watchful eye.

And Will was used to his dogs and the wilderness. But Hannibal wasn’t unreasonable and compromises where established. And trust grew along with companionship and comradery to the point where Will was no longer a guest but a partner and Hannibal’s house had become home until they bought one that suited both of them.

Will needed space for his dogs after all. And Hannibal needed plenty of space for his kitchen and dinner parties. That Will tried and forever failed to hide from. Hannibal always found ways to coax him out into the limelight with him.

The smug bastard. He was lucky that it felt so good to be tucked under his arm and pressed into his side.

Claimed by the one person in the world he cared about enough to perhaps call it love. A sentiment he was allowed the privilege to see returned past the man impeccable person suit and the amount of care Hannibal lavished on him. Something that Will had had to get used to and now craved. And how couldn’t he when Hannibal got such pleasure from caring for his only equal in a world mired with pigs.


End file.
